


must be love on the brain

by crispierchip



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Coercion, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gangbang, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulation, Spanking, Unhealthy Relationships, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 01:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11886822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crispierchip/pseuds/crispierchip
Summary: “Thank you,” Nolan says after, when Claude’s laying down next to him, his arm thrown over Nolan’s back.“Don’t thank me.” Claude snorts. “I made a mess of you.”





	must be love on the brain

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this](http://thesinbin.dreamwidth.org/3790.html?thread=4453070) kinkmeme prompt. 
> 
> this was supposed to be a short little thing but then it grew plot? sort of? it's debatable.
> 
> huge thanks to elenajames and 711b who had to force this into submission. you guys are the best <3
> 
> mind the tags. if you feel like there's something that should be tagged and isn't, let me know :)
> 
> title from rihanna

They call Nolan in the office after his nine games are up. Nolan has been getting a fair share of ice time, but he’s only gotten a single goal, and he mostly thinks they’re going to send him back to Brandon. He wouldn't blame them if they did.

Instead, they tell Nolan he’ll be staying. “Living with a vet to help you with whatever you need. Say, Claude?” Hextall says.

“Are you good with that?” he asks, and Nolan doesn’t feel any particular way about that except that he doesn’t want to inconvenience Claude. Claude is friendly, and he’s made sure to show Nolan the ropes so far, and Nolan doesn’t want to invade his space or anything.

“Is G okay with it?” Nolan asks them, his leg jiggling under the table.

Hextall smiles, this wide thing that scares Nolan a little bit, and clasps his hands together. “He’s the one who suggested it,” he says.

Nolan lets out a breath. He tries not to think about how Claude makes him blush a little too hard whenever he looks at him, tries not to think about Claude’s accent, how it’s thicker in the mornings when he first comes in for practice, and how Nolan will now be able to experience it first hand.

He mostly fails.

“Great,” he says to Hextall.

+

Actually living with Claude is much better than Nolan expected. Claude cooks for him and he drives Nolan to practice. Nolan is just in charge of laundry in return, and that’s easy enough with Claude’s washer/dryer unit.

“Good job,” Claude tells him when Nolan brings him his clean clothes folded one afternoon, and Nolan’s entire face goes up in flames, he can just tell. Claude smiles at him a little like he can tell, too, and it makes Nolan flush even harder. He leaves Claude’s room trying not to trip over his own two feet.

So, other than the embarrassment, living with Claude is pretty good, and Nolan tells his mom so when she calls to ask about it. He comes back to living room after they’ve hung up, where he and Claude had been watching TV, and finds that there’s some sex scene going on in the film, pretty graphic. He feels kind of awkward, if he’s being honest, but he thinks it would look worse if he walked away, so he reclaims his seat next to Claude and tries to be as quiet as possible.

“Fuck, I haven’t gotten any in so long,” Claude groans, the scene still going strong on the TV. His hand is on his thigh, and Nolan doesn’t mean to look at Claude’s lap but he does.

“I find that hard to believe,” he says, because Claude is Claude, and even if he wasn’t, he’s not unpleasant to the eye - Nolan should know, he spends long enough looking at him.

Claude shakes his head. “I’m serious,” he says. “It’s hell picking up in Philly.”

Nolan makes a vague affirmative noise. He wouldn't really know about that. His girlfriend came to visit three weeks ago, for his first game, and that was pretty awesome. Less awesome was how she’d said that they should stop seeing each other after, that she couldn't do both long distance and college. Nolan had tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge, and he didn’t really have an argument to begin with.

Nolan’s been out with the guys since then, but it still hits a little too close to home for him, so he hasn’t tried anything. Without really thinking about it, he says some of that to Claude.

“God, you’re sweet,” Claude tells him.

He’s smiling a little at Nolan, and Nolan finds himself smiling back - a little stupidly - because Claude has that effect on him. Then, before he can really stop himself, Nolan says, “I could - ” he has to pause and clear his throat, the words coming out to loud. “Help?” he finishes roughly.

Claude narrows his eyes at Nolan, looks at him like he’s trying to figure him out, and Nolan squirms in his seat. It’s tough, having all that intensity directed at him.

Nolan tries to wait Claude out, but Claude doesn’t say anything, and Nolan is pretty sure he’s fucked this up. He’s pretty sure he just inadvertently outed himself, and this is not how Nolan pictured coming out to his captain.

He stands up, ready to bolt the fuck out of there, but Claude reaches out and grabs his hand, holding him still. “Help?” he says, and his voice tilts up at the end, a question.

“Just - forget I said anything.” Nolan tries to step out of Claude’s hold, but his fingers are tight and warm, pressed right against Nolan’s pulse point.

“Wait, sit down,” Claude says, jerking Nolan back down on the couch.

Nolan’s face is warm, and his hands sweaty, a little shaky, too. His heart is beating in his chest and his tongue feels too big for his mouth, fuck. “G, just - I’m not gonna bring it up again, I promise,” he tries, because this is so embarrassing. Claude is probably going to kick Nolan out of his house, and then Nolan will have to go find a hotel, explain why he had to go find a hotel to Hextall, and this scenario is literally out of his worst nightmares.

Nolan tries to sit up again, but Claude’s hand is on him again, his shoulder this time, keeping him in place. Nolan can’t even look at him. “Stand still for a second, Jesus,” he says, and he doesn’t sound angry but Nolan can’t figure out what he _does_ sound either.

“What do you mean ‘help’?” Claude asks, or demands, really, and Nolan is so, _so_ fucked. He wonders why he even opened his mouth in the first place, this is so fucked.

“I mean - it’s nothing, Claude,” Nolan says, desperate, heart beating in his throat because this was never meant to happen, not like this. “Please,” he goes on, and it’s barely a whisper this time.

Claude - he shifts closer to Nolan on the couch. The outsides of their thighs are touching like this and Nolan’s skin is burning. “Is that something - is it something you want?” he asks.

Nolan’s heart is beating in his ears now, too, and he must have misheard. “What?” he mumbles, still unable to look at Claude.

“Do you want that?” Claude asks again. His voice is rough, rougher than before, at least, and Nolan imagines it in his ear, whispering all sorts of stuff, stuff that he refuses to even admit to.

“Look at me, Nolan,” Claude tells him, and Nolan can’t not, not when Claude is this close to him, not when his voice sounds like that.

Nolan turns towards Claude, and he meets his eyes, and it’s - he thinks Claude might not be entirely opposed to this. He thinks, now or fucking never. “I - yes,” he says. It comes out low and breathy, and Claude's hand on Nolan’s shoulder is so warm, scorching through Nolan’s shirt.

“Yeah?” Claude murmurs, and this, this right here, this is what Nolan thinks about when his pride is particularly low, when his defenses are down.

Nolan’s eyes flutter shut, so he doesn’t even get to see it when Claude leans in, just feels Claude’s lips against his. Nolan jerks a bit, at first, but then he gets his body under control and Claude’s lips are so soft, his stubble a little poky against Nolan’s skin. Nolan’s never even kissed another guy before, and it’s surreal to think that Claude freaking Giroux is his first.

“You wanna help me?” Claude keeps going, and Nolan nods before he can help it, too many times. “Huh?” Claude presses.

“Yes, yeah,” Nolan says. He kind of wants to kiss Claude again, but he doesn’t want to get pushed back, so he just waits for Claude to make the next move.

“Go ahead, then,” Claude tells him. He takes his hand off Nolan’s shoulder and leans back against the couch, and what is - what the fuck is Nolan supposed to do with that.

“Help me out,” Claude goes on. His legs are spread too wide and Nolan can sort of see the outline of his dick through his grey sweats. He swallows.

“I’ve never…” he trails off, embarrassed, because Claude is probably so experienced, and Nolan doesn’t want to make a fool of himself.

“Aw, that's okay, don’t worry,” Claude croons. “Just start with your hand, it’s the same principle.”

Nolan - he knows it is. But Claude just looks so good, sitting there, Nolan doesn’t even know where to start. He decides to just go for what he wants. “Can I kiss you again?” he asks, and it sounds too uncertain.

Nolan half expects Claude to laugh at him, and Claude sort of does, but he also pats his lap and says, “Go for it.”

Nolan feels so awkward, climbing into Claude’s lap, and he feels too heavy once he’s there, but then Claude is leaning in again, kissing him, and Nolan pretty much forgets all about that. Nolan has a limited sample for this, but he thinks Claude is a good kisser. That’s what it feels like, at least, when Claude’s tongue licks over Nolan’s lips, his hands settling on Nolan’s waist.

They stay like that for a long while, Claude kissing Nolan and Nolan tentatively kissing back, and then Nolan sets his hands on Claude’s shoulders, holds on, nails digging in, because he can feel Claude growing hard underneath him, and that’s a lot. Without really thinking about it, he rocks down, and Claude lets out a breath against Nolan’s lips, shaky.

“There you are,” Claude murmurs, soft, hands roaming over Nolan’s back, slipping under his shirt. Nolan shivers, because Claude’s palms are rough but also warm, and he presses into it, dick straining against his boxers.

Nolan does it again, a little more of his weight this time, and Claude lets his head fall back against the couch. His throat looks so good like this, and Nolan thinks, fuck it, he leans in and puts his lips on it, right where Claude’s stubble ends.

“Not too hard,” Claude tells him. His hand moves to Nolan’s head, fingers combing through his hair, and he grabs a fistful of it, stills Nolan.

“I got it,” Nolan says, but Claude doesn’t let go. Nolan keeps moving his lips, until he looks down and sees a dark spot has formed on Claude’s sweats, and then his mouth waters, stomach curling in anticipation.

“What should I - ” Nolan starts, and Claude says, “Your hand,” before Nolan even has a chance to finish.

“Like…” Nolan trails off. He slips his hand tentatively under Claude’s sweats and figures out pretty quickly that Claude isn't wearing any underwear underneath.

“Yeah, you got it,” Claude murmurs. His fingers are still in Nolan’s hair but he leans in to kiss his cheek, now, oddly tender.

Nolan slowly wraps his hand around Claude, asks, “Is that too - ”

“It’s perfect,” Claude breathes, and this is closer. It’s closer to what Nolan thinks of, when he’s alone with no one to stop him. “You’re good.”

Nolan smiles, can’t help it, and starts stroking Claude off, sneaking glances at Claude's face every few seconds to check how he’s doing. Claude’s eyes slip shut at some point, and lets out a rough breath, so Nolan thinks he’s doing pretty good. He keeps going until Claude is pressing into his hand, his fingers a vice grip on Nolan’s hair.

“A little tighter now,” Claude tells him then, so Nolan tightens his fingers, moves his hand a little faster when Claude prompts him to. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Claude goes on. He pulls Nolan in by his hair and kisses him, deep and too harsh, and Nolan moans into it without even realizing it.

“You wanna get on your knees for me?” Claude asks then, and Nolan - he hadn’t even thought that far. He stares at Claude dumbly but goes when Claude nudges him, until he’s on his knees between Claude’s spread legs and staring at Claude’s dick.

Nolan isn’t really sure where to go from here, so he looks up at Claude, a little helplessly, hoping for direction. “Use your tongue,” Claude tells him softly, so Nolan takes Claude in hand and licks over the head, tastes the precome on Claude’s skin.

“That’s it - fuck,” Claude chokes out.

Nolan closes his mouth over the head and sucks, not too hard, just trying it out, and Claude’s hips jerk, trying to push himself further into Nolan’s mouth. Nolan pulls back, surprised, and Claude sighs, and Nolan loathes the sound of that. He takes Claude back into his mouth and tries to go deeper, like Claude wanted, ends up choking and having to pull back.

“Sorry,” he says, voice rough. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand because he can feel spit on there and he doesn’t Claude to see him like that.

“You’re good, you got it,” Claude says easily. He looks down at Nolan and smiles, then bends over to kiss him, and Nolan is sure Claude can taste himself on Nolan’s tongue but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Keep going,” Claude pulls back to say, so Nolan does. He keeps it pretty shallow, but he sucks and uses his tongue a lot, and pretty soon Claude is arching into it, hips rocking up into Nolan’s mouth.

“I’m gonna,” he says, and Nolan has a moment of panic because he doesn’t know what to do, but then Claude’s hand is in his hair again, holding him in place, and Nolan lets out a breath from his nose. He swallows when Claude comes, and then he can’t hold out anymore, he shoves his hand in his sweats, starts jerking himself off, desperate for it.

“Come up here,” Claude tells him and Nolan wouldn't dream of saying no now. He stumbles his way back into Claude’s lap and lets Claude knock his hand away, lets him take over.

“Let me,” Claude says, like Nolan isn’t already.

It doesn’t much matter anyway. Claude kisses Nolan and Nolan arches into his hand, and it takes maybe half a minute before he’s coming, all over the inside of his underwear because Claude didn’t even take him out.

Nolan rests his forehead against Claude’s and breathes after, and Claude rubs his hands over Nolan’s back. He moves away at some point to kiss down Nolan’s throat, and Nolan likes that, it makes him shiver and it makes his stomach all light and jumpy.

Claude has to move though, at some point, and it’s not like Nolan is enjoying sitting there with come cooling in his sweats. His legs are a little shaky, when he gets up off Claude, and Claude reaches out to steady him. Nolan’s face warms at the gesture and he finds himself blurting out, “I liked that.”

“Yeah?” Claude asks. He’s grinning again, and he gets up and presses right along Nolan, and even though Claude’s shorter he feels so much bigger than Nolan right now. “You should have. It was good,” Claude says.

Nolan is stuck staring at him for a moment, at his easy confidence and his certainty, and then Claude is shaking his head and moving away. He grabs the remote and turns off the TV, and then it’s so quiet, suddenly, Nolan thinks he can hear his own heart beating.

“You should get some sleep,” Claude tells him then, and Nolan feels so disappointed, all of a sudden, because he thought - he just thought maybe they could share, tonight.

He shakes himself out of it, doesn’t want Claude to catch on. “Yeah, you’re - I should go,” he says, fumbly and awkward. He turns around to leave, and then Claude calls his name. Nolan hates how hopeful it makes him, hates even more how Claude just says, “Sleep well.”

“You too,” he says, and waves like a fucking nerd before making his way down the hall.

He’s still thinking about Claude’s beard, when he goes to bed, thinking about his hands and how they’d felt on Nolan’s back, and Nolan’s pretty young, it’s no surprise that he starts getting hard again. He doesn’t want to, at first, because he still feels weird about jerking off under Claude’s roof, but he gives in eventually and slips a hand into his underwear, strokes himself off hard and fast, thinking about Claude’s lips, how they’d felt pressed against his own.

+

The next morning Claude makes Nolan breakfast and asks him if he likes it. Nolan wants to lean over the counter and kiss him, that’s how he much he likes Claude’s breakfast, but he doesn’t think he’s allowed to, so he just forks the food down and spends the rest of the time watching Claude move around the kitchen, cleaning up.

“You sure you don’t want me to do that?” Nolan asks, a little awkward because he always feel like bad letting Claude do all the work.

Claude grins. “You just sit there and look pretty,” he says, and Nolan’s permanent flush grows three shades darker, he swears. “You’re good at that.”

Nolan ducks his head and resists the urge to touch his face, to feel how hot it is.

+

Claude doesn’t kiss him again, but he’ll compliment Nolan at random times, both when they’re alone and in front of the team. Nolan blushes hard on both occasions, more so on the latter, and has to splutter around bullshit comebacks when the guys jibe him for it. It is, all in all, not too dignified, but Nolan can suffer through it, he thinks.

What Nolan can’t suffer through, apparently, is Claude kissing him in front of Jake.

The three of them are in Claude’s living room, in the middle of a round of Mario Kart, when Claude just turns around and kisses Nolan, and it’s not half-assed either, he just goes for it. Nolan wanted this so bad, he’s thought it about it so much, but Jake is here, and it’s a jarring realization, has him jerking back from Claude.

“But Jake,” he just says, low like Jake won’t be able to hear it even though he’s standing right next to Claude.  

Claude just smiles. “Jake doesn’t mind,” he says inexplicably, and turns to Jake to ask, “Do you Jake?”

“Not at all,” Jake says.

Jake sounds amused, for some reason, but before Nolan can even start to parse it out Claude is kissing him again, soft and coaxing, and Nolan never really stood a chance. He kisses Claude back, puts his hands on Claude’s shoulders to hold him close, and leans back when Claude pushes.

“Claude,” he says, because it’s bad fucking etiquette to make out while your friend is right there.

Claude doesn’t seem to care. He pulls back so Nolan can put his leg up on the couch, and then he leans over Nolan and kisses him again, deeper this time, until Nolan is breathing hard, hips rocking up into Claude. Claude lets more of his weight drop onto Nolan then, and Noan lets out a sharp breath because he can feel Claude everywhere now, can feel his breath and his dick, and it’s a lot.

“But Jake,” Nolan tries again, weakly.

“Jake likes the view,” Claude says, and Nolan’s face burns. He turns to the side and sees that Jake has moved to sit on the ottoman, and he’s got such a good view from there, view of _them_.

Jake locks eyes with Nolan, and Nolan can’t fucking look away. His mouth dries out and Claude starts kissing his throat, rubbing him through his jeans, and Nolan can’t help but move into it.

“See?” Claude murmurs. “He likes it,” he says, because Jake is rubbing himself too, and this is so messed up. When Nolan got to the NHL, he didn’t think he’d be doing this. He didn't think his captain would be kissing him while their teammate watched, and the thought gets him hot, has him pressing up against Claude’s hand.

“You like it too,” Claude says, and his voice has a little wonder in it.

Nolan makes a sound, too loud, and finally looks away from Jake because he just can’t bear watching him watch them anymore, buries his face into Claude’s neck instead. “Please,” he says, and it comes out high and whiny and fucking embarrassing.

“It’s okay,” Claude says. He presses his hips down against Nolan’s, and Nolan chokes on his breath. “You got it,” Claude goes on, relentless.

Claude curls his hand under Nolan’s thigh and hikes it up around his side, spreading Nolan’s legs open farther. He moves against Nolan, and there’s so much pressure on Nolan’s dick.

“You gonna come like this?” Claude asks him - taunts, really.

“Claude,” Nolan whines. He’s not proud of it but it just happens.

“In your pants?” Claude goads on. He moves faster now, and Nolan can see his arms flexing from holding himself up, can feel Claude’s muscles between his legs, shifting, and he wraps his arms around Claude’s chest and pulls him down, kisses him mostly to shut him up.

It doesn’t really help. Nolan can still feel Jake watching them, can feel his gaze, and he still feels too close to coming. When it finally happens, his body shakes with it, all over, and he’s grateful for Claude’s weight on top of him, holding him down.

“Oh, fuck,” he says, and Claude kisses him quiet.

He pulls back a second later, turns to Jake. “Fucking teenagers, man,” he says. When Nolan turns towards him, Jake is still clothed but very obviously hard, and Nolan’s stomach jumps.

“You got Jake all hot,” Claude tells Nolan.

Nolan - he sees that.

“You gonna help him or what?” Claude goes on. His weight is still pressing Nolan down, and Nolan’s heart is thumping in his chest, so fucking loud.  

“I…” Nolan trails off, because he just - he likes _Claude_.

“Or you gonna leave him hanging?” Claude asks, and Nolan is pretty sure he doesn’t mean for it to, but it comes out accusatory anyway.

When Nolan doesn't say anything, Claude offers, “How about, if you take care of him, I take you to bed, huh? How about that?” He kisses Nolan’s throat, and this is so unfair because all Nolan wanted was for Claude to take him to bed.

Nolan looks at Jake, though, and he thinks that the prospect of helping him out isn’t actually that bad. Nolan doesn’t like him the way he likes Claude, but he likes him enough, as a teammate, and after, if he does a good job, he gets to go to bed with Claude.

“Okay,” he says now, and can almost feel Claude’s approval radiating off him.

“That’s so good, baby,” Claude says. It makes Nolan’s face burn, the endearment, his stomach trying to curl into itself, and Nolan tries to shake it off because Claude probably doesn’t want someone who gets so easily rattled.

Claude climbs off Nolan the next moment, and Nolan feels cold now, come cooling in his jeans and hair standing on end with it. He sits up and looks at Jake, at how he’s hard and straining against his pants. Nolan makes his way over but freezes when he gets in front of him, uncertain. “What should I…”

“You like his mouth, Jake?” Claude asks from behind Nolan. “God knows he could use the practice,” he goes on, and Nolan’s stomach dips, his face heating because it’s bad enough that Claude thinks he’s bad at giving head, now Jake has to know it, too?

“Is that so?” Jake murmurs. “Why don’t you show me, rook?”

Nolan looks to Claude, waits for his nod, and then he gets down on his knees in front of Jake for Claude, and he unbuttons Jake’s pants for Claude, pulls him out and takes him into his mouth. He still feels clumsy, like this, hears Claude’s words ringing in his head, “God knows he could use the practice,” and decides to fucking earn them.

“Tell me how you like it,” he pulls back to say.

Jake smiles down at him for a moment, and then he just says, “Deep,” no further instruction, so Nolan tries for that.

It’s difficult. Nolan can barely take half of him into his mouth before choking, and he wonders if this is something you get good at with practice. It doesn’t feel like it, but Nolan tries anyway, pushing himself further and further until his eyes water, his throat burning with it.

“Fuck, kid, you definitely get points for enthusiasm,” Jake says. His fingers are in Nolan’s hair, holding on, and after a few minutes he grips a fistful and guides Nolan like that, setting his own pace. Nolan likes that better, less room for screwups that way, so he goes with it, even though Jake’s grip is too tight, because Claude is watching and Nolan wants to make him proud.

Spit starts dribbling out from the corners of Nolan’s mouth after a point, and that feels so embarrassing, that he’s messing both himself and Jake up, but Jake doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the messier Nolan gets the more he seems to like it, and his pace grows erratic pretty fast. He pulls Nolan down too hard one time, and Nolan has to pull back with tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Go easy on the kid, Jake,” Claude says then, and Nolan realizes Claude is much closer than he thought. Nolan’s hands twitch on his lap to reach out, but he wants to see this through.

“It’s fine,” he says, “Keep going.”

Jake and Claude both chuckle, but Jake does, and it doesn’t take long after that. He pulls Nolan off before he comes and comes all over his face instead, which is worse, really. It has Nolan’s skin burning at being marked like this, and then it’s so messy when Claude leans in to kiss him and Nolan didn’t want that.

“You look so good,” Claude tells him though, which makes up for it, Nolan thinks.

Nolan doesn’t know what’s supposed to happen now. Should he offer to help Claude out, or should he just go clean up? Are they supposed to just go back to video games after this? How does that even work?

Claude makes the choice for Nolan. He says, “Why don’t you go clean up and I’ll show Jake out?” and Nolan thinks that is the best possible outcome. He nods and stands up, knees aching despite his youth, and makes his way to the bathroom.

Nolan can hear Claude and Jake talking as he cleans up his face, but he can’t make out what they’re saying. He thinks they might be talking about him, and the thought makes his face feel warm, his hands a little shaky. He wonders if they’re comparing notes.

Nolan probably stays in the bathroom for too long, but he comes out once he hears the front door close. He makes his way back to living room slowly, and Claude smiles from the couch when he sees him. Nolan thinks that’s nice, and he smiles back, stomach curling because Claude is happy to see him.

It makes Nolan brave, the thought, and he walks over to Claude, moves to sit in his lap. Claude’s hands go to Nolan’s waist almost instantly, and they’re so warm. “What do you - what should I do?” Nolan asks, only a little fumbly, because he wants Claude feel good; wants Claude to take him to bed.

Claude hums. He looks up at Nolan and moves his hands to Nolan’s ass, squeezes. “You can say no, but I really want to fuck you,” he says, and he sounds - fuck, he sounds like he aches for it, and what is Nolan even supposed to say to that?

“I’ve never…” Nolan tries, embarrassed.

“That’s okay, baby,” Claude murmurs. His hands rub circles on Nolan’s ass, over his jeans, and Nolan can’t help leaning into it. “I can go slow,” Claude goes on. He sounds like he means in, and Nolan trusts him, doesn’t have reason not to. This might be a little too soon but he thinks, if he asked, Claude could make it good for him.

“I don’t know,” he hedges.

“I’d take my time with you,” Claude says, voice low. “Make sure you had a good time.” He kisses Nolan’s temple, his cheek; his way to Nolan’s ear. “And we could even have a nap after,” he says, and he can’t _not_ know by now, how much Nolan wants that.

“Okay,” Nolan breathes, before he’s even fully realized it.

It’s worth it for the kiss Claude gives him after, deep enough to make Nolan’s toes curl. They just kiss for a few minutes, and Nolan likes that, like that he knows what to do and that he’s good at it. Claude pull back though, at some point, taps Nolan’s hip and says, “Come on, let’s go.”

He takes Nolan’s hand, just like that - and it’s not like Nolan has an early life crisis over that or anything - and guides him down the hall and into his bedroom.

Claude’s bed is made, everything put away neatly, and the mattress is soft when Claude sets Nolan down on it. Nolan looks up at him, lips parting when Claude reaches out to cup his cheek.

“Are you nervous?” Claude asks him, and honestly what kind of stupid question is that?

“A little,” Nolan lies.

Claude laughs like he can tell and then he climbs into Nolan’s lap, and Nolan finds himself with a lapful of Claude Giroux. That’s such a surreal through to have, and he stays motionless for a moment until Claude tells him that it’s okay to touch, and then it feels like Nolan can’t stop touching. He runs his hands over Claude’s back, and then his thighs, feels how the denim stretches to accommodate his muscles.

“You feel good,” he says, unprompted.

Claude smiles. He frames Nolan’s face and kisses him, keeps kissing him until Nolan’s lips feel tingly and numb at the same time. He pulls back then, and takes Nolan’s shirt off him, leans in to kiss his throat and his chest, the scar on Nolan’s collarbone. Nolan tries to imagine what the rest of this is going to be like, and he’s feeling pretty confident, if this is the start.

Claude sits up, pushes Nolan until he’s lying on his back and then starts unbuttoning his jeans. Nolan sucks in a breath, when Claude’s fingers touch his stomach, and then he flushes when Claude’s got him naked. Flushes even harder when Claude gets down on his knees for Nolan, takes him into his mouth, and yeah, with how good Claude feels, Nolan can see where the jab about Nolan’s oral skills came from.

“Fuck,” he breathes, because Claude is going at it, hard and fast, swallowing around Nolan and taking taking him down, and Nolan isn’t going to last, not like this. He raises himself up on his elbows, and that’s a view, Claude Giroux with Nolan’s dick in his mouth.

“Claude,” he says, _stop_ , _keep going_ , doesn’t know what to follow it up with.

Claude gets it anyway. He swallows around Nolan hard enough to have Nolan’s thighs shaking, and then he pulls back. He curls his hands under Nolan’s thighs and pushes them back, and Nolan is so naked like this, fuck, he’s not sure he’s going to make it. Then Claude’s tongue is on him, on his hole, and Nolan can feel Claude’s stubble between his cheeks, itchy and a little poky, and he shakes all over.

“Oh, jesus,” Nolan lets out, choked up because this is all so much, it has his chest tightening and his head spinning, his dick leaking all over his own stomach.

Claude presses in with his tongue then, and Nolan almost knees him in the head, it’s so embarrassing. Claude doesn't seem to mind. He keeps going at it, doesn’t stop until Nolan is a shivering mess, dick drooling all over the place.

“You liked that?” he asks then, and what is Nolan even supposed to say.

“Please,” he breathes, and jerks when he feels Claude’s fingers at his hole, slick with spit. Claude presses one inside him, and Nolan has done this before, just to himself, but it’s so much different, now that it’s Claude. It has Nolan’s heart beating in his throat, choking him.

“Oh god, Claude,” Nolan keeps saying, but Claude is ruthless. He presses in with a second finger, and that’s so much, is even worse when Claude curls his fingers and Nolan suddenly can’t take it anymore, can hardly breathe around everything that’s happening.

Claude keeps pressing in and in, and that’s it for Nolan, he can’t take it anymore, he comes all over himself, untouched, and god, he’s such an embarrassment, couldn’t even hold out for Claude’s hand or something.

“Jesus,” Claude says.

“Sorry, sorry, just - ” Nolan tries, stumbling over his words. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“Aw,” Claude says. “That’s okay, baby, don’t worry about it,” he goes on, and god, he’s so good with Nolan. “I can still fuck you though, right? I really want to.”

Nolan flushes at Claude’s words and nods, because Claude didn’t do all this work not to come. So Nolan lets Claude push him further up on the bed, lets Claude crawl between his legs, spreads them when Claude pushes at his knees. Nolan watches as Claude reaches for the lube and slicks up his fingers, his dick too.

Claude fingers Nolan a little bit more, two, and then three fingers, and it feels so much more intense than before, Nolan has no idea how he’s going to be able to handle everything else.

His breath hitches when he feels Claude’s dick on his hole, and he clenches down on nothing. “Wait,” he says, a little frantic.

Claude stops moving, and leans down to kiss him softly. “What is it?” he asks. His voice is strung tight and there’s tension in his shoulders where Nolan is holding onto to him, but Nolan can’t blame him; Claude’s waited for so long.

“Just - go slow?” Nolan says, and his voice tilts up at the end like a question even though he doesn’t mean for it to.

“Of course, baby,” Claude says.

Nolan nods once and lets his legs spread out further, until he can feel the stretch in his hips. “Okay.” He nods again. “You can go ahead now,” he says and Claude does.

He presses himself against Nolan’s hole, and Nolan feels so sloppy with lube, but Claude makes it work. He pushes in and then some more, and Nolan can feel the stretch of it, and he feels so sensitive from coming, it hurts. The deeper Claude goes the more it hurts, and Nolan thinks about asking Claude to stop, but Claude has been so patient with him that Nolan doesn’t want to let him down.

He grits his teeth through it, and then Claude is kissing his neck, stroking his hand up and down Nolan’s thigh, and that feels better. It has Nolan holding himself less tightly, and then, when Claude says, “You feel so fucking tight, Jesus, so good,” has him breathing out, because he's _good_ , good for Claude.

Nolan thinks about that and relaxes a little, and after that it doesn’t hurt as much. Claude moves then and it even starts feeling good again, that all-encompassing feeling from before, and Nolan chokes on his breath, squeezes his eyes shut and just holds on.

Nolan thinks he gets hard again, at some point, and then Claude’s hand is around him, stroking him off, and it hurts and feels good at the same time. “Claude,” Nolan keeps saying, and then he feels it, Claude’s thrusts grow shaky and he comes. Nolan’s first thought is that they forgot the condom, but then he thinks that Claude is older, he knows better, and he lets it go.

Claude doesn't let go of him. He keeps stroking Nolan off until Nolan is breathing hard, clenching around Claude’s softening dick. Claude makes a sound like he’s in pain at that, but he doesn’t move either. He waits Nolan out, kisses him as Nolan comes, and pulls out slowly after, considerate.

“How was that?” Claude asks him. He’s still kissing Nolan, and Nolan smiles into it.

“It was - it hurt a little, but then it was good,” he says honestly.

Claude pulls back to frown at him, his hands rubbing circles on Nolan’s side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says. He sounds sad, and Nolan hates that, hates it enough to lean in and kiss Claude, try to make him feel better.

“It was good for the most part, I promise,” Nolan tells him.

Claude smiles a little at that, though it’s still subdued.

“Seriously, it was good,” Nolan says. “I wanna do it again.”

Claude perks up when he hears that, and Nolan smiles. “Really?” Claude asks.

“Yeah, for sure,” Nolan says. He thinks maybe not soon, but definitely again. Nolan clues in on the wetness between his cheeks then, and scrambles to get off the bed. “I should - shower. I should shower.”

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Claude asks, getting up with Nolan.

Nolan flushes. “I don’t want to make a mess of the sheets,” he admits quietly.

“I don’t care about the sheets,” Claude says easily. “I care about you.” He leans in to brush their lisp together, and Nolan’s breath shakes. “Come back to bed,” Claude says, so Nolan does.

+

Claude takes Nolan aside the next day, asks to talk to him. Nolan doesn’t really know what it’s about, except that he hopes it isn’t anything bad. Then Claude says, “It’s about us,” and Nolan’s stomach drops, because he knows those words, those are the words his girlfriend used before she broke up with him.

“What about us?” Nolan mumbles. His heart is beating a little quicker, and his hands are kind of sweaty.

“It’s - the guys will start to suspect, is all. And I don’t want them to treat you any different,” Claude says slowly.

“I don’t care,” Nolan blurts out, and is sounds more desperate than he meant for it to. “I don’t care about that.”

“I do,” Claude says. “I don’t want you to feel excluded.”

Nolan huffs. “So what? You’re breaking me up with me?” His voice does a little dip at the end, not quite a break, and he clears his throat.  

“What?” Claude frowns. “Nolan, no.” He shakes his head. “I just - they might get a little touchy, is all,” Claude says, and Nolan lets out a breath, because he plays hockey for a living, he can handle touchy.

“That’s fine,” he says easily. “Jeez, I thought you were…” he trails off, too relieved to put into words.

“I wouldn't,” Claude says honestly. He pulls Nolan into his lap and kisses him, and Nolan holds on.

+

Nolan doesn’t really think about their conversation until a couple of days later, when some of the guys go out after the game - a win - and Nolan gets goaded into joining them. Honestly, he’d rather go home with Claude, but Claude is coming too, so Nolan is persuaded pretty easily after that.

He sits between Gudy and Claude, and they keep feeding him drinks even though they shouldn’t, and Nolan is used to drinking but not these sort of drinks, so he gets drunk pretty quickly. He ends up leaning into Claude for most of the night, and then, when Claude gets up for a refill, he leans into Gudy, and Gudy is so warm and solid, Nolan gets kind of distracted. He doesn’t even notice it at first when Gudy puts a hand on Nolan’s thigh, and when he does, he tries to jerk away but it's weak.

“Hey, chill,” Gudy murmurs in his ear, and Nolan flushes really hard. “I just wanna have fun,” he says, and Nolan has no idea what this means.

“I - Claude,” he tries, not sure if he should say more, if Claude even wants him to say more.

“Claude’s cool with it,” Gudy says easily.

Nolan takes a moment to panic because Jake in Claude’s house was one thing but they’re at a bar now and Claude is nowhere to be seen. “I want to - where is Claude?” he asks. The words feel fuzzy, same as his brain, and he thinks he’s drunk more than he should have.

“Okay.” Gudy sighs. He takes his hand away and says, “Let's go find him.”

Nolan nods and slithers out of the booth. It’s difficult because he feels so uncoordinated, and he’s pretty sure this is the drunkest he’s been in his life. Gudy is there to steady him though, all of a sudden, so Nolan leans into him, goes where Gudy takes him.

Gudy takes him to the restrooms, it turns out, and Nolan is so confused because he can’t see Claude anywhere. “What are we doing here?” he slurs.

There’s no one else here, which is strange, and then Gudy goes and flips the lock on the door, and Nolan thinks about Claude’s words from the other day, how he’d said that guys might get a touchy.

Gudy doesn't answer Nolan. He starts walking towards Nolan, and Nolan backs up until his ass is pressed against the sinks, and then there’s nothing but the press of Gudy’s chest against Nolan’s front.

“Are you sure Claude is okay with this?” Nolan asks, a little frantic because he doesn’t want to do this if Claude is going to be angry with him after.

“It’s all good, I promise,” Gudy says. Nolan lets out a breath, relieved, and then Gudy is leaning up and kissing Nolan, and it’s nothing like it is with Claude. This one is hard and biting and Nolan doesn’t want to like it because this isn't Claude, but he feels his face grow warm anyway, feel heat pooling in his gut.

“Gudy.” Nolan fumbles to put his hands on Gudy’s chest, and he’s still so warm, it makes Nolan almost dizzy.

“Can you even get hard for me?” Gudy taunts. He rubs his hand over Nolan’s crotch, and Nolan is humiliated because he’s not hard, and he doesn’t think he can get there either, not with how much he’s had to drink.

“I - sorry,” Nolan mumbles, honestly apologetic, because he wants to make this work, doesn’t want to cause any trouble in the locker room.

“What am I even supposed to do with you, huh?” Gudy murmurs. He kisses Nolan again, just as hard, and Nolan’s lips feel kind of puffy, from Gudy’s mouth and his beard.

“Just tell me what to do,” Nolan says. He grips Gudy’s shoulders weakly and tries to rub against him but it’s so difficult, he can barely get his limbs in order.

Gudy hums. He pulls Nolan to him and rubs his hands over Nolan’s ass, slaps it lightly over his pants. Nolan chokes on his breath, surprised, and leans into Gudy.

“Just stay still for me,” Gudy says eventually, and Nolan can do that, he can be good like that - for Claude, at least.

Gudy brings his hand down on Nolan’s ass again, and Nolan sucks in a breath because it’s harder this time, it has him squeezing his arms around Gudy’s waist.

“Yeah, you can do that for me,” Gudy murmurs. He slaps Nolan’s ass again, this time the other side. It’s muted because Nolan’s still wearing his pants, but Gudy’s hands are on his zipper then, shoving it down and then his pants, his underwear, too.

It hurts, the next time his hand comes down, and Nolan’s face burns. He thinks about someone coming in through the door and seeing him like this in the mirror, thinks about Claude seeing him like this, and that's so humilating, it has his stomach curling and his toes right along with it.

“You like this?” Gudy asks him. He brings his hand down again, hard, and Nolan yelps, nails digging into Gudy’s sides. “Tell me,” he says, and Nolan can’t because he doesn’t _know_. He still feels warm all over, and his stomach feels tight but he doesn’t know, he can’t tell.

“I - I’m not - ” Nolan tries but is cut off when Gudy hits him again, this time lower, closer to his thigh, and Nolan feels it so much there.

“I’m gonna give you a few more to let you decide,” Gudy says. Nolan doesn’t pull back to check, but he thinks Gudy might be smiling; that’s what it sounds like at least.

Gudy’s hand comes down on Nolan’s ass again, this time, harsh, and Nolan chokes back a sound because he doesn’t want to be too loud. Gudy does it again and Nolan feels his eyes pinch because Gudy’s going so hard now, there’s a lot of force behind the blows.

Nolan’s stomach is still curled so tightly, and he doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s not supposed to like this, he’s pretty sure, but he knows he’d be getting hard by now if he could, if he weren’t so drunk, but he doesn’t _understand_ it.

“Gudy, please,” he breathes, and it’s so wet, it sounds like he's been crying even though he hasn’t been.

“Just a few more,” Gudy says. His voice is rough, and Nolan can feel how Gudy’s hard against his thigh. Nolan jerks at the next hit, pushing his leg into Gudy’s dick, and Gudy tells him, “good boy,” and Nolan might just lose it.

Gudy hits him again, and then again after that, and Nolan loses count pretty quickly. He just knows his ass burns and his thighs shake, and he knows for a fact that if Gudy wasn’t holding him up Nolan’s legs would have collapsed by now. As it is, Nolan clings to Gudy and tries to breathe through the sting, loses it at some point and starts crying quietly.

Gudy slows then, gentles his hand, and - inexplicably - that makes Nolan cry harder, a little louder but not much. “Shh,you’re good,” Gudy tells him, and Nolan breathes out because he did it and he was good.

“Turn around for me,” Gudy says then.

Nolan has a moment of sheer panic because he doesn’t think he'll be able to take it if Gudy tries to fuck him right now, he doesn’t think his legs will hold him up for that.

Gudy, like he can read that - or some of that, at least - says, “I’m not gonna fuck you, come on, just turn around and lean over the counter.”

Nolan does as he’s told, turns around and leans over the counter, tries to bow his back a little because the position pulls against the skin of his ass, but Gudy won’t have that. He slaps Nolan’s ass again, too hard, and presses down his waist.

“Come on, don’t half ass it,” he says, so Nolan arches his back like he knows Gudy wants him to and listens to the slick sounds of Gudy jerking himself off. Nolan’s a little bit relieved at that, and he relaxes against the filthy counter. Gudy sounds close, from the sounds he’s making, so Nolan closes his eyes and moves his ass a little even though it hurts, and that does it for Gudy, has him coming in spurts on Nolan’s waist.

Nolan jerks away from it at first, but he’s too uncoordinated for it, and that damage has already been done anyway. He lays against the counter after, waits for Gudy to hike his clothes up and lift him up.

“Come on, let's get you back to Claude,” Gudy’s saying, which has Noan smiling gratefully.

Claude is sitting at the table again when Gudy guides Nolan back to it, and he looks up when he sees them. He smiles at Noan while the rest of the team hollers for reasons that Nolan doesn’t understand, but they make room for Noan to sit next to Claude so he can’t say he really cares about the hollering in the end.

Nolan hisses as soon as he sits down because it fucking hurts, but then Claude is leaning into him, wrapping his arm around Nolan’s shoulders, and Nolan rests his head on Claude’s shoulder and that feels better.

“Was Gudy good to you?” Claude asks, voice low.

And Nolan, he’s pretty sure it’s because he’s drunk, his courage, but he says, “Why don’t you take me home and find out?”

Nolan feels as much as hears Claude’s sharp intake of breath at that. Then Claude says, “Okay let’s go,” and Nolan smiles.

It feels like Claude can’t wait to get Nolan naked, after they get home. He kisses Nolan against the door as soon as it’s shut behind them, and his hands fiddle with Nolan’s coat, his suit jacket and shirt underneath.

“Bedroom,” Nolan finds himself saying, because he doesn’t want to this against the door.

Claude indulges him. He takes Nolan’s hand and leads him to the bedroom, Claude’s bedroom, and helps him take off his clothes. Nolan is less drunk but still pretty drunk, so he appreciates the help.

“What did he do to you?” Claude asks. His hands are on Nolan’s belt, the zipper of his slacks.

“He - ah, he spanked me,” Nolan murmurs shyly, and Claude’s hands freeze.

“Fuck,” he says. He drags Nolan's pants and boxers the rest of the way off and turns him around, pushes him until he’s lying flat on the bed. “Jesus, he really did a number on you,” Claude says, and Nolan wonders what his ass looks like. Red, probably.

“He said you were good with it,” Nolan mumbles, because that feels like the most important thing right now.

“Oh, I was,” Claude says. Nolan feels the mattress dip and then Claude’s breath against his skin, his thighs and his ass. “Did you like it?”

Nolan swallows. He tenses inadvertently, when Claude touches his ass, and lets out a sharp breath.

“Did you?” Claude presses. He runs gentle hands down Nolan’s ass but it hurts anyway, with how achy the skin there feels.

“I shouldn’t have,” Nolan just says.

Claude squeezes then, just a little. Nolan gasps and Claude leans down to kiss him, soft. “You should like whatever you want,” he just says, simple as that, and Nolan feels his eyes pinch again.

“I like this,” he breathes wetly, and Claude kisses him again, all over where he’s most bruised.

“I like it too,” Claude says. He keeps kissing Nolan’s skin all over, and then he bites down, suddenly, too hard, and Nolan whines, can’t help it. He thrashes, but it’s too uncoordinated, and Claude’s holding him down anyway, it won’t do any good.

It doesn’t last for long though. Claude pulls back after three seconds and kisses him again, the spot he just bit. “There,” he says. “Now everyone knows you’re mine.”

Nolan loses his breath for a moment at that, because that’s all he ever wanted since this started. He wants to say something romantic, but he can’t even locate his voice, and then Claude kissing him again, his thighs this time.

He pulls back after a couple of minutes and straddles Nolan’s ass, and it hurts because the skin there is bruised, so Noan grabs a pillow to shove his face in, but Claude doesn’t stay there for too long. He just starts jerking off, fast and wet with something, and then he’s coming all over where Gudy came, and Nolan’s stomach feels so light, he’s so fucking pleased.

“Thank you,” he says after, when Claude’s laying down next to him, his arm thrown over Nolan’s back.

“Don’t thank me.” Claude snorts. “I made a mess of you.”

+

Nolan’s ass is bruised as hell the next morning, and if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, there’s a bite mark on his cheek too. Claude walks in on him checking it out in the bathroom and whistles appreciatively.

“Looking good,” he says, and Nolan flushes like always.

Claud smiles at that and move in to press Nolan against the counter, seemingly uncaring that Nolan’s getting him wet all over. He kisses Nolan until Nolan’s breathing hard and then he gets down on his knees for him, sucks him off hard and fast until Nolan comes in his mouth.

Claude turns Nolan around after and fucks between his cheeks, taps Nolan’s hip until he squeezes his legs together to make it good for him. He comes between Nolan’s thighs, his nails pressing into the bruised skin of his ass, and Nolan needs a moment after that to get it together.

“You don’t think - what’s the team going to say?” Nolan asks him later, as they’re having breakfast.

“About what?” Claude asks slowly.

“The - you know, the mark,” Nolan explains. “The bruising. They’re going to see it.”

Claude shrugs and shoves more oatmeal into his mouth.

No one bats an eye in the locker room, except at some point Raff walks by him and snaps the towel against Nolan’s ass. Nolan jerks away, turning around to shield his ass from the rest of the room, though everyone’s seen it already.

“Kinda slutty there, Nolan, huh?” Raff says with a grin.

Nolan looks to Claude for help, panicked, but Claude is fiddling with his skates, couldn’t care less. Nolan’s stomach drops, because what is he supposed to say.

“We’re feeling a little excluded,” Simmer goes on. He’s smiling, too, and Nolan thinks this is all good natured maybe, and laughs with them.

They have to go out onto the ice after that, and Nolan hopes that by the end of practice everyone will have forgotten about it, but it doesn’t really go that way. Claude pulls him aside after they get off the ice, tells him that it’s bad for team dynamic, what they have going on.

Nolan panics, because he doesn’t want to stop what they have going with Claude, just - he’d do anything.

“I don’t like sharing you,” Claude tells him, and it sounds like the words are difficult for him.

“I don’t like that either,” Nolan admits.

Claude gives him a small smile and goes on. “But Raff, he’s pretty upset.”

Nolan nods slowly. An ida is starting to form in his head. “I could - like with Gudy?” he suggests, awkward because he doesn’t have the words for this.

Claude looks up at him, smiling softly. “Do you want that?” he asks. His voice is so small, Nolan hates it.

“I want to help you,” he says simply. “Would that help you?”

“It would,” Claude says.

“Then let me take care of it,” Nolan tells him, because Claude’s been taking care of him all this time, he deserves this.

+

Raff has him get on his hands and knees on the bed, has him arch his back so far that Nolan’s spine aches, his skin pulling where it’s bruised. He spread Nolan’s cheeks and Nolan shivers, tries and fails to keep still.

“Have you done this before?” Raff asks. Nolan can hear him uncapping the lube, imagine him slicking up his fingers.

Nolan nods, then remembers Raff can’t see his face. “Yeah,” he says.

“G?” Raff asks. He rubs his fingers between Nolan’s cheeks, over his hole. Nolan jerks and Raff puts a hand on his waist, holds him still.

“I - yeah,” Nolan says. He lets his head hang between his shoulders, his forehead rest against the comforter.

“Man,” Raff says. “I wish I was captain.”

Nolan can’t quite parse that, and he doesn’t try to either, not with Raff’s fingers pressing into him. He tries to relax instead, because he’s only done this once before and the feeling is still pretty alien.

Raff opens him up efficiently, but Nolan doesn’t get the sparks he did with Claude. He just feels the stretch, first one, then two and finally three fingers going into him, and he groans around them, spreads his knees farther apart to take them in.

“That’s it,” Raff says, and his praise has the same effect as Claude’s.

Raff pulls his fingers out at some point, and then he’s pressing in with his dick, hard but yielding, and Noan has to hold his breath throughout it, try to relax.

“You can breathe, rook,” Raff tells him. He strokes his hand down Nolan’s side and Nolan shivers, pushes into the small gesture of affection.

Raff’s hands are on his hips then, pulling Nolan onto his dick, and Nolan gasps because that’s too deep too quickly, nothing like it was with Claude, but Raff is ruthless. He pulls back and pushes back in, too fast.

He cards his fingers through Nolan’s hair and pulls his head up, pulls him back on his dick like that. He sets a pace that’s too much for Nolan to follow, and then he lets go of his hair and his hip with a sigh.

Raff has Nolan press his legs together and then he pushes him down on the mattress, straddles his ass like that and keeps thrusting, and he doesn’t go as deep now but it’s twice as hard, a rhythm that has Nolan grasping, fingers twisted around the comforter as he tries to hold on.

“That’s better,” Raff says.

Nolan’s ass hurts where Raff’s hips slap against it, and the slide of Raff’s dick feels too dry, but then the angle changes and Nolan presses into it because he can’t not, it feels too good. Nolan doesn’t think Raff is doing it on purpose, but he likes it anyway. He moans around it, and Raff seems to like that at least and he keeps his hips steady, just moves harder and harder still until Nolan’s eyes are pinching, his dick drooling all over Raff’s comforter.

“Please,” he says. He rocks against the mattress, as much as he can with Raff on top of him like this.

“Shh,” Raff tells him. “I’m close,” he goes, and Nolan can feel it too, in the unevenness of his thrusts, the shakiness of his breath next to Nolan’s ear. When Raff finally comes, he slicks Nolan up inside with it, has Nolan gasping around the hard pulse of his dick.

“Please, please, please,” Nolan is saying after, but Raff just climbs off him and taps his ass.

“Sorry, rook, I don’t really do that,” he tells Nolan, and Nolan’s stomach goes all tight. “I can watch though, if you want?” Raff doesn’t sound too willing, and Nolan imagines going home to Claude and that’s always more enticing.

“Sorry,” Nolan says, awkward. “I’m just gonna…” he sits up stiffly and pulls on his jeans, clenching down so he makes sure he doesn’t make a mess of them.

“Yeah, that works,” Raff says. He sounds relieved.

Nolan catches a cab home, paranoid the entire time about making a mess of the leather seats in the back, about the driver noticing his erection. In the end, neither things happen, but just the thought is enough to have Nolan on edge the entire ride over.

Nolan finds Claude in the living room, once he gets home, and he just goes and sits himself in Claude’s lap, leans in to kiss him, deep and frantic because he's been hot for this for the entire cab ride over from Raff’s. Claude kisses back for a moment, hands slipping under Nolan’s shirt, but he pulls back after a minute to frown at Nolan.

“Everything okay?” he asks. He looks down then, sees Nolan’s erection and sighs. “He didn’t help you out, did he?” Claude mutters. He shakes his head and looks skyward, resigned. “I’ve talked to him about this,” he goes on, and Nolan could care less right now.

“Come on,” he says. He sits up and pulls off his clothes, gets naked in the middle of Claude’s living room.

Claude looks up at him with wide eyes and then he seems to get it together, takes his dick out of his pants and lets Nolan climb back into his lap. “You don’t want any lube?” he asks.

Nolan shakes his head, too ashamed to admit that he’s still wet from Raff. As it is, he reaches between them for Claude dick and works himself down on it, slowly because he’s wet but not super slick.

Claude groans and lets his head fall back, his hands trailing up Nolan’s back. “Oh fuck, you don’t need any,” he mutters, and Nolan flushes, stomach curling with embarrassment.

“He finished…” Nolan trails off, uncertain of how to say it or if he even _can_.

“Yeah, I can tell, baby,” Claude says easily. He leans in and kisses Nolan’s chest, his scar again. Nolan shivers.

He tries to find the right angle but just can’t, no matter which way he bends, and he makes a whining noise, desperate. “I can’t - ” he mumbles, and he wants it so bad, he needs it.

“Let me,” Claude says. “Put your hands on the couch and lean forward,” he instructs, so Nolan does it, anything to get relief. Then Claude starts moving, and it feels so good, nothing like it did with Raff, and Nolan bitterly thinks that Raff couldn’t handle being captain if that was the fucking he was willing to give Nolan.

“Yeah, I’m…” Nolan trails off. Everything feels heightened, now, and he tries to chase the feeling because it feels so good, and he gets pretty close but not close enough. “Please,” he says to Claude, leaning down to rest his forehead against the couch.

“Yeah, baby, I got you,” Claude murmurs. He wraps his fingers around Nolan then, and Nolan lets out such a long breath of relief. He presses into it and pretty soon he’s coming, making a mess of Claude’s shirt.

Claude pauses for a moment after that, giving Nolan time to collect himself, but then Nolan straightens again and starts riding him, because Claude has always been so good to him, he deserves this. It hurts a little, and it feels so fucking dry, but it’s worth it for the way Claude’s eyes slip shut, lips parting as he breathes hard.

“Does it feel good?” Nolan asks, unnecessary but he wants the validation of it.

Claud open his eyes and leans forward, seals his lips over Nolan’s throat. “So fucking good, you don’t even know,” he mutters, and then his hips starts shaking and he comes, slicking up Nolan inside even more.

Nolan is exhausted after, and he just leans his head against Claude’s shoulder, feels Claude soften inside him. Claude rubs his back through it for a few minutes, kisses his shoulder, but then he pinches Nolan’s bruised ass and proclaims that his legs are getting numb. Nolan gets up with great difficulty and heads for the shower, because as much as he liked this he’d like to get clean again.

Claude is in the kitchen when Noans comes back out, in clean clothes and damp hair. He asks Nolan is he wants a snack and Nolan’s just thinking about what Raff said, can’t get it out of his head.

In the end, he decides to just go for it, because this is Claude, and Nolan know Claude will be honest with him. “Are you doing this just because you’re the captain?” he asks, and it comes out a little accusatory.

Claude stops from where he’s making a sandwich. He turns to Nolan after a moment. “I’m doing this because I like you,” he says. It sounds honest, and Nolan’s stomach flutters because that’s the first time he’s heard Claude say that.

Claude makes his way over to Nolan and goes up on his toes to kiss him, and that makes Nolan so happy, he can’t even understand it. “Okay?” Claude murmurs. He wraps his arms around Nolan’s waist and kisses his neck. His beard tingles.

“Now do you want a sandwich?” he asks.

Nolan wants Claude but he’ll take the fucking sandwich.

+

Nolan probably shouldn’t have trusted Claude; should have caught on earlier.

He didn’t.

+

The team goes out after a win, Claude included, and Nolan isn’t even supposed to come, except Simmer talks him into it at the last minute.

Nolan knows better than to get drunk this time, so he sticks to soda for most of the night, and a single shot, so he’s painfully sober when he looks across the room to find Claude talking to a woman, smiling down at her in that smile that Nolan has become all too familiar with.

Nolan’s stomach feels too heavy, all of a sudden, and his lips part on their own accord, and he stares for too long. Next to him, Simmer is nudging his shoulder, but Nolan can’t fucking look away. He sees Claude lean down to whisper something in the woman’s ear, watches as she laughs too obviously, and then he feel so angry, angry at Claude but mostly at himselfhis self.

Nolan watches Claude kiss the woman’s cheek, then lean down to catch her lips with his own, and he feels sick. He thinks about all the things that Claude has told him, thinks about all the things he’s done for Claude benefit, and his chest feels so tight, like he can barely breathe.

Nolan watches them, and realizes that Claude knew Nolan was here and didn’t even fucking care, and feels so stupid, more stupid than words can properly convey. His eyes burn, but he refuses to do this here - refuses to do this period.

Next to him, Simmer follows his line of sight and sighs. “Leave it, rook,” he says, and it sounds like he’s been here before.

Nolan thinks about what Raff had said, how Claude had reassured Nolan after Nolan had brought it up and thinks, _what a pile of bullshit_ . He thinks about how easy he’s been for Claude and thinks, _should have known better_.

Nolan is getting up before he even knows what he’s doing, shrugging Simmer’s hand off him and making his way over to Claude. Claude and the woman don’t even notice him at first, not until Nolan taps Claud’s shoulder. Claude has the decency to look surprised, at least, but Nolan hardly has the presence of mind to focus on that right now.

“Nolan,” Claude says, and it sounds like he’d completely forgotten Nolan was here, fuck.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Nolan says, and it takes all that he’s got to give the woman a smile. “But I was wondering if you could drive me home? I think I’ve had too much to drink,” he says to Claude. It even sounds half real.

Claude doesn’t question it. “Sure,” he says to Nolan, a slightly worried edge to his voice, and then a simple, “Sorry,” to the woman, and Nolan probably shouldn’t like that dismissal as much as he does.

Noan makes it to the car first, Claude scrambling to keep up behind him. “Nolan,” he tries again, the mildly worried tone to his voice, and Nolan drinks it in. “I’m sorry,” Claude says, and it fucks with Nolan's head, how real it sounds.

“Just unlock the car,” Nolan says, because it’s freezing and Nolan would like to feel his fingers again sometime soon.

Claude does, and even opens the door for Nolan to get in. Nolan hates how his stomach swoops at that.

“Nolan, I’m really sorry,” Claude tries again. Nolan looks at the dashboard. Claude gets in the car and turns up the heat, apologizes for the third time.

“Just - ” Nolan snaps, because he doesn’t even get it, why Claude brothers pretending. “Let me think,” he says. He’s still trying to fit his head around it all, how he let Claude talk him into all these things; how Nolan went so easily when Claude suggested. How eager he was to please Claude when Claude didn’t even care about him.

The rest of the drive is in silence, and after they get home Nolan just walks down the hall and into his bedroom, locks the door behind him. He lies in bed and thinks about everything he’s done for Claude, let Claude do to him, and all of the things Claude has told him and feels both pleased and sick.

Nolan can make out Claude pacing outside in the hallway, probably waiting for something, but after twenty minutes pass without him getting it, he goes to bed. Nolan lies awake thinking about everything, until he turns to his phone and sees that’s it’s past three in the morning.

He gets up then, unlocks his door and makes his way to Claude’s bedroom. The door is open, an invitation, and Nolan takes it. Claude is sleeping, and Nolan turns on the light but that doesn’t faze him. He shifts though, when Nolan sits on the bed, and after a moment he blinks his eyes open, squints up at him.

Nolan looks down at him and thinks that Claude has underestimated him, and that wasn't really Claude’s fault; it was all Nolan.

“I’m not gonna share you,” Nolan says.

What happened hasn’t made Nolan want Claude any less. It hasn’t made the bundle of feelings inside Nolan’s chest untangle. If anything, it’s made it more complex. “I’m not gonna share you,” he says again.

Claude looks up at him with tired eyes and nods. He goes when Nolan pushes him back, and he doesn’t fight it when Nolan shoves the covers off him. He spreads his legs when Nolan nudges at his knees, and he wraps them around Nolan’s waist when Nolan kneels on the bed.

Nolan leans over and kisses Claude’s neck, the most forward he’s dared be but he supposes it doesn't matter any more. He seals his lips over the spot where Claude’s stubble ends and grazes it with his teeth, sucks too hard on it until he knows he’ll leave a mark. He moves to another spot then, does the same thing and then again, until Claude is squirming beneath him.

Claude’s hands move to Nolan’s hips and Nolan’s pulls back, grips Claude’s wrists and presses them into the mattress, holding him still. Claude looks up at him with wide eyes and tries to kiss him, and Nolan lets him because he still likes this part too much.

Nolan rocks against him, and Claude is getting there, Nolan can tell, so he doesn’t hold back. He stays quiet and lets Claude make all the noise this time, feels Claude’s wrists flex under his hands and holds on tighter, until Claude goes lax and lets Nolan rut against him.

They both come in their boxers, and after that Nolan moves to Claude’s chest, maps it out with his teeth and his lips until he’s sure that’s going to bruise too. He lies next to Claude after, gets under the covers when the room starts feeling too cold.

“I’m sorry,” Claude says again, and Nolan is almost asleep, he barely registers it.

“Good,” he still mumbles, and curls himself around Claude, too tight.

+

Claude’s neck is a mess the next morning. Nolan sees it and stares for too long. Claude squirms under his gaze, and that’s a high. They don’t talk. Nolan strokes himself off in the shower thinking about Claude’s neck, about Claude’s wrists under his hands. Wonders if this means he’s turning into him.

+

“I’ll tell the guys to back off,” Claude tells him later, as they’re driving to practice.

Nolan thinks about it, thinks about how many things have changed in the past twenty four hours and thinks about how many options he’s got from here. “No,” he says.

There’s a red light. Claude turns to Nolan and for the first time, he looks at Nolan like Nolan is something interesting. Nolan hates how much he loves it. “No?” Claude repeats.

“They get to do what they want to me,” Nolan says, “As long as I get to do what I want to you.”

The light turns green and Claude scoffs. “I’m the captain,” he says, like that explains it, and it sort of does.

“Suit yourself,” Nolan says, and he won’t lie, he’s a little disappointed.

+

Nolan figures Claude will ask to guys to back off to avoid any risks, which is why he’s so surprised when Simmer cosies up to him post-practice, comes by Nolan’s stall while Nolan’s getting dressed and tells him he looks good. He’s sitting awfully close, and Nolan is half-naked.

“Is G okay with this?” Nolan asks, because he’s not sure where things stand, not with Claude or with the rest of the team.

Simmer shrugs. “He said it’s up to you.”

Nolan tries to catch Claude’s eyes from across the locker room but Claude is very carefully looking at the floor, head hanging between his shoulders. Nolan thinks about the way Claude had looked at him this morning, like Nolan was worth something. “Why don’t I come home with you,” he suggests, because he’s about to milk this for all it’s worth.

+

Simmer is as enthusiastic as Raff was lazy. He lays Nolan out and fingers him like his sole purpose is to ruin him, doesn’t stop until Nolan is shaking all over, from him thighs to his stomach and everywhere in between.

Nolan’s eyes are squeezed shut and burning with it, his dick hard and aching on his stomach, and his thighs tremble from how apart he’s holding them. He can feel Simmer watching him, can feel Simmer’s fingers working inside him, and Nolan keeps making these sounds, unbidden.

SImmer makes Nolan come like that the first time, working him through it with his fingers until Nolan is twitching, and then he pulls his fingers out, slicks up his dick. He leans over Nolan and kisses his neck and his chest and Nolan arches his back and presses into it.

“You ready, rook?” Simmer asks him. It sounds like he’s smiling, and when Nolan opens his eyes, Simmer’s lips are stretched into a grin.

“Yeah,” he breathes. He hikes his leg higher up around Simmer’s hip and pulls him in, and Simmer goes with an amused huff.

“Got it,” Simmer murmurs.

He presses in and Nolan’s breath hitches, still sensitive from coming. It sort of reminds Nolan of his first time but also not because Simmer is not Claude, but it’s good nonetheless. Simmer fucks him slowly, carefully, until nolan starts getting hard again and then he goes faster, harder, a pace that has both of them panting.

“You gonna come?” Simmer asks. His hand is on Nolan’s stomach, fingers pressing into the muscle there.

Nolan nods. He goes to wrap a hand around himself but Simmer is already there, starts jerking him off in time with his thrusts. It’s a lot, honestly, and Nolan closes his eyes again. He wraps his arms around Simmer’s chest while Simmer kisses his neck, and then Simmer’s angling his hips the right away and Nolan can feel it, he’s so close.

“Please,” he says.

Simmer tightens his hand, picks up the pace, and that has Nolan coming, squeezing down hard on Simmer. Simmer chokes on his breath and stills for a moment. He thrust another few times and then he comes, and Nolan shivers with it.

Nolan takes a shower in Simmer’s bathroom after, because he’s not looking forward to a repeat of what happened with Raff. Simmer is sitting on the bed when Nolan comes out, and he pats the space on the mattress next to him, an invitation. Nolan is hesitant but goes, running a hand through his wet hair.

“So,” Simmer starts. “Everything alright between you and Claude?”

“Yeah,” Nolan says, too quickly. “Why wouldn't it be?”

Simmer frowns. “I mean, after what happened at the bar… I wasn’t sure.” He looks at Nolan expectantly and nolan squirms under it. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Simmer goes on, like he can tell this is making Nolan uncomfortable.

Nolan shrugs. “We talked about it,” he says. “It’s dealt with.”

Simmer, for some reason, outright laughs at that.

“What?” Nolan narrows his eyes, looking at Simmer carefully.

Simmer pats him on the back, like he’s sort of proud of Nolan. “You play some hardball, rookie, I’ll give you that much,” he says, inexplicably.

Nolan thinks about how Claude and Simmer are friends, how Claude might have told him about the changes in their arrangement, but he doesn’t get to ask. Simmer pretty much throws him out after that, and it’s not like Nolan was itching to stay.  

+

When Nolan gets back home, Claude is nappning, and Nolan doesn’t hesitate before waking him up. He climbs into bed next to Claude and rolls onto his side, facing him.

Claude blinks at him, smiling a little before he seems to catch himself.

“You told them I was fair game,” Nolan just says.

Claude shifts until he’s on his side too, looking at Nolan. “Aren’t you?” he says. His fingers twitch on the bedspread, like he wants to reach out but isn’t sure if he should. Nolan thinks _welcome to my territory._

“Are _you_?” Nolan challenges, because he meant what he said, back at the car.

Claude swallows. He looks at Nolan for a long moment. “For you, maybe,” he says, and his voice is so quiet, Nolan isn’t sure sure if he even heard right.

He looks at Claude and wants to say so many things, but none of them come to mind right now. He just smiles.

“Anyway,” Claude blurts out, like he wants to distract Nolan. Nolan can’t blame him. “How was it?” Claude asks. “I’ve heard Simmer is good with rookies.”

“He was,” Nolan says. He shifts a little, getting more comfortable. “Better than Raff, at least,” he goes on.

Claude eyes narrow. He sits up a little. “Better than me?” he asks.

Nolan hedges. “I don’t know,” he lies. “He _was_ pretty good.”

Claude licks his lips, and the next thing Nolan knows he’s on his back with Claude between his legs, Claude mouth on his neck, and he sighs, because Simmer was good but he wasn’t Claude, he didn’t know how to press Nolan’s buttons like Claude does.

“Pretty good, huh,” Claude murmurs against Nolan’s throat, and Nolan shivers, arches into it.

“Yeah,” he says weakly, and he’d hate himself for the way his voice shakes but he thinks there’s none of that here, with Claude.

“What did he do?” Claude akas. He pulls back and kisses Nolan, soft and coaxing, a kiss that has Nolan chasing his lips when he pulls away. “Tell me what he did.”

“He fucked me,” Nolan says, letting his head fall back against the pillow.

Claude’s hand is on Nolan’s side, hiking up his shirt so he can get to Nolan’s skin. “Did he fuck you better than I do?” he asks quietly.

Their lips are so close, Nolan can feel Claude’s breath. “I don’t know,” he says. “You’re gonna have to remind me.” He leans up to kiss Claude and Claude pulls back, just out of reach. “It’s been a while,” Nolan says.

Claude smiles. He finally moves down enough for their lips to touch, and Nolan lets out a breath. His stomach dips when Claude strokes down his side, and he moves into it, bending his waist to get closer to Claude.

“Been a while, huh,” Claude murmurs. He pulls back and starts messing with Nolan’s belt, the buttons of his jeans. He finally gets them undone and pulls Nolan's jeans off, his boxers too, and Nolan sits up so he can take his shirt off.

“I’m gonna have to do an extra good job then, right,” Claude says. He moves down the bed so he can lie on his stomach between Nolan’s legs, and it doesn’t take much for Nolan, to get hard, just a handful of strokes from Claude’s hand.

“Yeah,” he says. “Extra good job.”

Nolan’s stuck looking down at Claude, at Claude taking him into his mouth, and then he can’t look anymore, his eyes drift shut, hips arching off the bed. Claude throws a hand over his stomach to hold him still, and Nolan makes a sound, already aching for it.

Claude goes slow this time, slow and shallow, a  sharp contrast to the last time he did this for Nolan. It’s good all the same. It has Nolan sweating all over, has him squirming under Claude’s hand. His breath hitches every time Claude goes a little deeper, and by the time Claude has taken him all the way, Nolan’s chest is heaving.

Claude pulls back then, kisses Nolan’s hips, the trail of hair leading to his groin. “Did Simmer do this for you?” he asks, and he sounds pretty proud of himself.

Nolan chuckles breathlessly. “Yeah, he did,” he says, and opens his mouth to watch the set of Claude’s shoulders, the way he gets back to it twice as determined.

“He wasn’t as good though,” Nolan breathes, because it’s a truth.

“Good,” Claude pulls back to say. His voice is rough and Nolan threads his hands through Claude’s messy hair.

“I want to fuck your mouth,” Nolan says, and he doesn’t think Claude will let him, but Claude just goes boneless after a moment. He lets Nolan set his own pace, lets him fuck into his mouth in tiny little thrusts and then harder, until Nolan is getting close. Nolan looks down and can see him shifting against the bed, rubbing himself against the mattress.

Claude pulls back when Nolan starts moving quicker, and reaches for the lube that’s on the nightstand and hands it over to Nolan. “Open yourself up,” he tells him, and Nolan is still reeling from being so close, Claude can't be serious.

“Simmer didn’t tell me to do this part on my own,” he tries, breath still coming short, dick aching with it.

Claude presses himself along Nolans and kisses him, and Nolan can’t help arching into it. “I am.” Claude sits back and gestures for Nolan to get on with it.

Nolan is stuck staring at him, and then his brain clicks into gear and he slicks up his fingers, spreads his legs and reaches between them. Claude is watching him intently and Nolan can’t handle that so he lets his eyes slip shut.

He’s still sensitive from Simmer, so he shivers when he first touches himself, hisses when he finally presses inside. He’s already stretched from before, but he showered at Simmer’s and everything’s dry, so he uses a lot of lube, too much of it, until his hole is sloppy with it, his thighs right along with it.

“You look really good,” Claude tells him. His voice is rough still, and Nolan thinks part of that is just from watching him.

Nolan flushes, both at Claude’s words and the slick sounds of him fingering himself. He opens his eyes and meets Claude’s eyes, and it’s such a rush to see the want in them. “Why don’t you do something about it, then,” he says, and it’s getting easier to ask for what he wants from Claude.

Claude gives him that look again, the one that says Nolan is something getting curious over and Nolan wants to keep looking at him but he doesn’t.

Nolan hears more than sees Claude lubing himself up, and then his dick is at Nolan’s hole and Nolan makes another sound, too close to a hiss. Claude doesn’t pause, but he goes slow, slower even than the first time they did this.

Nolan is sweating so hard, and his heart is pounding in his chest. He reaches out and holds on to Claude's shoulder, nails digging in, and Claude says something in French that Nolan doesn’t understand. He tightens around Claude to hear it again, and it’s mostly French after that, and Nolan lets his eyes slip shut and goes where Claude puts him.

Claude takes Nolan’s hands off him at some point, and Nolan thinks it’s because his nails hurt him, but Claude just links their fingers together, presses their hands into the pillow on either side of Nolan’s head, and this is so messed up. Nolan can recognize that now. He opens his eyes and looks at Claude, doesn’t expect to find Claude looking at him and chokes on his breath.

Nolan can feel Claude everywhere, is the problem, and he squeezes his fingers, buries his face in Claude’s shoulder so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes any longer. He breathes against Claude’s skin and spreads his legs as far as he can so Claude can move between them.

“Fuck, you love this,” Claude says in English then, and Nolan doesn’t know how to lie. “Bet you’d spread your legs for the whole team, if I asked you,” he goes on.

Nolan - if Claude asked, he thinks he would, and that’s such a messed up realization to come to. “Please,” he says, and means, please shut up.

“Let the whole team fuck you up for me,” Claude says. He snaps his hips against Nolan and Nolan can hardly breathe around the force of it. “Maybe I should, see what a mess they’d make of you after,” he says, and Nolan doesn’t mean to say anything, doesn't want to either, but he says, “For you,” anyway.

Claude’s hips still for just a second, and then he’s right back to fucking into Nolan with brutal force. “For me,” he says, and he sounds fucking impressed.

Claude lets go of Nolan’s hands then, and he wraps his hand around Nolan’s dick, and everything is so much, after that. Nolan feels the stretch inside him and the warmth around his dick, feels Claude’s weight on him and his eyes burn with it.

“Come for me?” Claude says, and it sounds like a question so Nolan nods around it. He focuses on Claude and it doesn’t take much after that until he’s coming into Claude’s hand.

Claude keeps fucking him after, and it reminds Nolan so much of the first time they did this, when everything was so intense. He wraps his arms around Claude and wraps his legs too, lets Claude take what he wants and tries not to like it; fails too obviously.

Claude lies next to Nolan after, and for the longest time that’s all it is, until Nolan rolls onto his side and curls into him. Claude stays still for a moment and then he wraps his arms around Nolan’s shoulders, lets Nolan rest his head on his chest.

“I would, you know,” Nolan says at some point.

“Hmm?” Claude hums. His fingers are tracing circles on Nolan’s shoulder, and Nolan thinks about that.

“I would let the whole team fuck me for you,” Nolan explains.

Claude swallows. His fingers freeze.

“As long as I got to fuck you after,” Nolan keeps going.

Claude chuckles. “I don’t do that,” he says. He’s tense, and Nolan remembers of how he’d gone boneless when Nolan had asked to fuck his mouth.

“Of course,” he says. “It’s just an offer.”

When Nolan doesn’t push it further, Claude resumes stroking his shoulder, but the tension doesn’t leave his body. “Let me think about it,” he says, after a few minutes.

+

They arrange it for after the game, before an off day. Nolan doesn’t want to be grateful for that but he kind of is anyway. It’s in the locker room, and Claude goes first. He opens Nolan up on his fingers first, uses enough lube to make them both sloppy with it, and then he fucks Nolan with everyone watching them.

Nolan listens to the sounds Claude makes, and he focuses on the press of his fingers around his hips, and he knows Claude. He thinks Claude likes this, the fact that he gets to go first, the fact that everyone else will be having Nolan used when Claude had him first.

Claude makes sure Nolan comes before he does because he knows Nolan likes that he doesn't understand if he enjoys it, and then he fucks Nolan with his fingers until his come is all rubbed into Nolan’s skin.

It’s TK after that, because he had the game winner, and he goes hard and fast, enough that Nolan’s knees are burning where they’re rubbing against the carpet. TK doesn’t seem to care about whether or not Nolan’s enjoying this, much less his dick, and Nolan lets that wash over him. He hangs his head between his shoulders and closes his eyes, tunes everyone out.

Fingers are on his hair then, Simmer’s, and Simmer’s dick is in front of him, sliding past his lips. “No cheating, rook,” he says. “Be good.” And Nolan flushes because - as fucked up as it is - he doesn’t want to let Claude down.

Simmer fucks Nolan’s mouth while TK moves inside Nolan’s ass, and Nolan can’t even breathe, everything is so intense. TK is moving so hard, almost angrily, and Nolan tries to grip the carpet to keep still but the strands are too short and he reaches for Simmer’s hips knees instead.

“You got it,” Simmer keeps going. “Come on, help TK come,” he says.

Nolan feels so warm, his face burning with it, but he clenches down around TK and feels TK hunch over him, feels him spill inside him, and lets out a breath of relief.

Nolan can’t see who’s next, and when he tries to look Simmer sinks his fingers in Nolan’s hair and grips it tightly, holding his head in place. Whoever it is, they go slower than TK but faster than Claude, oddly measured, and then they slap Nolan’s ass and Nolan thinks that it’s Gudy fucking him.

He lets out a breath, swallows around Simmer, and then Simmer’s hips are jerking and he’s coming deep down Nolan’s throat. Nolan looks up at him and Simmer leans down to kiss his cheek, tell him he’s doing a good job, and then he’s gone and Raff is in his place.

Raff taps Nolan’s lips with his dick until Nolan opens his mouth, and then he slips inside, just the tip of his dick. Nolan wants more, he thinks, but Raff doesn’t give it to him, not until Gudy comes.

“You need it, huh?” he says then. It’s a little mean, and Nolan wants to roll his yes but he ends up flushing instead. “I’ll give it to you, it’s okay,” Raff goes on. He finally lets Nolan have the rest of his dick and it’s not intentional but Nolan sighs in relief. Raff chuckles but it’s pretty breathless, and it’s not long before he comes, so. Nolan’s going to take this one.

Someone else moves between Nolan’s knees eventually, and Nolan can’t even tell who it is this time, there are no giveaways. He has no choice but to take it, until whoever it is comes inside him, messing him up.

Nolan loses count, after that. He drifts, for the most part, opens his mouth when he needs to and lets whoever’s turn it is fuck him, and in between he looks at Claude, leaning against the wall across from Nolan and watching everything. It’s not long before Nolan’s jaw starts to hurt, his ass sore, but he looks at Claude ands thinks this is worth it.

Nolan arms give out, at some point, his legs soon after, and Claude steps in to hold him up. He runs his fingers through Nolan’s hair and murmurs some stuff that Nolan doesn’t understand but drinks in anyway.

“Just a little longer,” he says, and Nolan can at least make that out. “A little longer and then we can go home,” he goes on. Nolan’s stomach curls, and he spreads his legs, lets the next two guys fuck him without making too much noise.

“We’re done,” Claude says then, and Nolan lets out the biggest breath of his life, he swears. Claude lets him go and Nolan collapses against the floor, his face mashed into Claude’s lap while Claude’s fingers comb through his hair.

Nolan is idly aware of guys stepping out, leaving the locker room, and then Claude helps him to his feet, drags him off to the showers.

“Let’s get you clean,” he’s saying, and nolan has never sympathised with a statement more in his life. He can feel come dirpping out of him and trickling down his thighs, and his mouth tastes like dick. The first thing he does when they make it to the showers is wash it out, and then he’s content to let Claude move him around, under the spray and whichever other way he wants.

Nolan lets Claude wash him, clean him out, and doesn’t fight it when Claude has him turn around. “Just one more,” Claude’s saying, and Nolan doesn’t think he’ll be able to take it, if Claude wants to fuck him now, but Claude just slips his dick between his legs and fucks him there.

It chafes, and every couple of thrusts his dick catches on Nolan’s hole and that stings, but it doesn’t take long before Claude’s coming, and Nolan has never felt such relief in his life. He leans against the shower wall and shivers when Claude washes off his own come.

“Now we can go home.”

+

The next morning, when Nolan’s body still aches in ways he shivers when thinking about, Claude wakes him up with a kiss. It’s soft, but it’s there, and Nolan’s kissing back before he’s even awake. He blindly reaches for Claude and strokes a hand down Claude’s side when he finds him, and then he pushes his leg between Claude’s starts rocking against him gently.

Nolan can feel where Claude is hard against his thigh, and he pulls back to blink his eyes open, to meet Claude’s gaze. Claude looks sleepy, lips red and face flushed, and his breath hitches when Nolan reaches around him to palm his ass.

There’s no way Claude doesn’t know where Nolan is going with this, and Nolan doesn’t pretend there is. He digs his fingers into the muscle and hikes Claude’s leg up higher around his hip, moves against him slowly and carefully because Claude is still holding himself very tightly.

“You want to?” Claude murmurs. His eyes are shut now, but he’s moving into Nolan, incrementally, and his voice isn’t at all challenging.

“Yeah,” Nolan breathes, and Claude rolls over onto his back, pulls Nolan on top of him. He spreads his legs around Nolan and then rocks against him in tiny motions that have Nolan’s breath coming hard and fast.

Nolan doesn’t give Claude any bullshit about being sure because Claude got his, now it’s Nolan’s turn. He just moves against him until Claude is breathing hard too, and then he reaches for the lube on the bedside table.

Claude tenses again all over, and Nolan leans down to kiss him, soft and coaxing, like Claude had done with him, the first time. He pulls back after a moment to drag Claude’s boxers off, to slick up his fingers, and then he rubs them between Claude’s legs, warming him up.

Claude goes tight all over, and he tries to close his legs but can’t, not with Nolan between them. Nolan puts his hand on Claude’s knee, holds it in place, and leans back so he can look down between them as he pushes a finger inside Claude.

Claude’s inhale is sharp, but he makes no other sounds. He’s holding himself so tightly, and Nolan has a wild thought, that he might the first person to do this to Claude. It sends a rush through him, has him pressing his fingers in deeper but slower; gentler.

“Have you done this before?” he finds himself asking, glancing up at Claude.

Claude snorts at that. He breathes out through his nose and closes his eyes, like he’s making an effort to relax more. “No,” he says. Then, unbidden, he adds, “Richie. Mike Richards.”

“He was your first?” Nolan asks.

“He was captain when I got here, it’s just the way things are,” Claude mumbles.

“The way things are,” Nolan repeats. He presses in with a second finger, a little faster than he’d meant, and Claude hisses. He doesn't asks Nolan to stop and he doesn’t open his eyes, just rolls his hips into it. “And this?” Nolan goes on. “Is this the way things are too?”

Claude does open his eyes then, stares right at Nolan. He smiles, a little, and takes his flagging erection in hand, starts stroking himself. He looks really good, is Nolan’s first thought, before he catches himself.

“I have no idea what this is, buddy,” Claude says. He sounds amused, so Noan presses in deeper with his fingers, tries to find the spot that will make Claude whine, because Nolan wants Claude to sound _incoherent_. When he finally gets it, Claude whole body shakes with it, and Nolan lets out a breath of relief.

Claude picks up on it, of course. “Worried you weren’t going to be good at this?” he asks, and he’s breathless now but still amused, so Nolan presses in and in, gets the angle right and doesn’t let up until Claude says, “Fuck,” like it’s dragged out of him.

“I seem to be doing fine,” Nolan counters. He presses in with three fingers this time and that's more of a stretch, it has Claude’s hand pausing on his dick and has his eyes squeezing shut again.

“Yeah, you are,” Claude breathes, and he sounds so confident, still, and Nolan gets it then, that no matter how hard he tries he and Claude will never exchange one for one. Claude will always have the upper hand, he’ll always know the right buttons to press to get Nolan boneless, and Nolan will always be caught trying to keep up.

Nolan is good at trying though. He pulls his fingers out and taps Claude’s hip, has him turn around, onto his hands and knees. Claude seems to find that funny, for some reason, but Noland doesn't dwell on it. He just hooks his hands under Claude’s hips and raises his ass up a little, pushes down between his shoulders until Claude gets it and lets his chest drop to the mattress.

Nolan looks down at him then and thinks Claude looks the best Nolan’s ever seen him. He’s flushed, the back of his neck red, and he’s slick between his legs where Nolan opened him up. “You look good,” he says, honest, and Claude huffs like he doesn’t believe it. “You really do,” Nolan goes on, because it feels like he needs to.

Claude is quiet, but his breath does a weird swoop when Nolan starts pushing in, and Nolan drinks it in. He goes slow, as slow as he can stand, and when he starts moving he does it slowly, too, because he wants to make this good for Claude, even after everything.

The first time Nolan gets it right, Claude honestly chokes on his breath, and it’s hands down the best sound Nolan has ever heard. It goes straight to his dick, has his hips jerking and Claude’s nails digging into Nolan’s hips.

“What is it?” Nolan asks. He doesn’t stop moving, and Claude’s fingers are pressing in so sharpy. “Tell me,” he presses.

“Just - keep going,” Claud breathes, and Nolan wraps an arm around Claude’s waist and pulls him up, Claude's back to Nolan’s chest. They’re so much closer like this, and Nolan doesn’t even have to work for it, it feels like his dick is hitting Claude right almost constantly. It has Claude breathing heavily, has him leaning his head back on Nolan’s shoulder, and they fit so well, like this.

Nolan moves his hand down Claude’s stomach, at some point, wraps it around Claude’s dick, and it doesn’t take long after that for either of them.

“Do you do this every year?” Nolan asks, after, when they’re lying together, Claude with his head on Nolan’s shoulder. “Like, pick out a rookie and - do _this_?”

Claude shrugs, Nolan feels it against him. “If they’re willing,” he just says.

Nolan snorts. He feels oddly betrayed, because he wanted Claude but Claude never really wanted him.

“This is different,” Claude says then.

“I bet that’s what you say to all the rookies in your bed,” Nolan counters.

Claude sits up, abruptly, climbs on top of Nolan and grips his wrists, pressing them to the mattress. He looks down at Nolan and he’s so focused. “I don’t,” he says. And, “I wouldn't,” and Nolan doesn’t know why but he believes him.


End file.
